Beauty And The Beast
by TotallyAnnonymous
Summary: While Sam and Dean are completing the Demon Trials, Crowley unknowingly finds a way to assist in the third when a stranger captures his attention.
1. Meet The King

Olivia ran down the road, a cramp growing in her calf. The elderly couple a block over had said they thought they saw a dark-haired woman leading Aaron into a building farther down the street. She couldn't, in good conscience, not at least check the warehouse for him; she was, after all, supposed to pick the five-year-old up from daycare.

Finally, she reached the building. She had never been inside it, even though it was only three blocks down from her apartment complex. Grabbing the large metal handle of the door, she found the door was much heavier than it first appeared. After struggling for a moment with its weight, Olivia opened the door to see a very peculiar sight: a large octagonal table, with a greenish-blue light under its glass surface sat in the center of the room; two women and four men were seated at it, all looking terrified. The woman with brown hair braided down her back was the only one who noticed Olivia's arrival; she gave her a slight shake of her head then lowered her eyes back to the table.

"Olivia!" Aaron appeared, apparently emerging from under a nearby desk and hurried over to her. Olivia was caught off-guard by the child's arms around her thighs in a hug – she had only babysat Aaron once before.

"Are you okay, Aaron?"

He nodded then began tugging on her shirttail, his eyes locked on something behind her.

Olivia turned quickly, but she was not fast enough to dodge the blade that sliced her side. Luckily, she had moved speedily enough to avoid being stabbed; the blade only slit her flesh, although quite deeply, rather than being buried in her waist. The pain was still excruciating, however, and she fell to floor, her hands and knees hitting the hard, dirty surface simultaneously. Olivia looked up at the man who had attempted to stab her; he was a muscly dark-skinned man with an angry face.

"What are you doing here?" the man demanded, "You were not here a moment ago. Who are you?"

"She's Olivia," Aaron said, "She's my sitter."

The man turned his glare to Aaron, then gave a swift backhand across his face, knocking Aaron to the floor in tears.

"Hey!" Olivia shouted at the man, "You can't do that!"

The man gave her a solid kick in the stomach in reply.

"What," a new, deeper, British, voice sounded from the edge of the room, "is all the ruckus?"

The overly muscled man gestured toward Olivia, "She was not to be here."

Olivia heard the sound of approaching footsteps; she felt movement next to her.

She flinched, expecting another blow.

"You've frightened her, Erik. What exactly do you think you're doing?" the new voice said. "You can't just stab anyone that pisses you off; that's not how we do things." Olivia felt a hand grasp her upper arm and she was pulled to her feet.

"What's your name, sweetheart?" the man, in a dark suit, asked.

"Olivia," she whispered, casting a nervous glance at Erik, the man who had stabbed her.

"And what are you doing here?"

"I was looking for Aaron," her words were barely audible, "What do you want with him?"

"Nothing, as it turns out; not a thing."

"Great," Olivia sighed, "So, then, can we go?"

"That is up to you," he frowned at her side, "However, it appears my oaf of an employee injured you."

"I'll go to the hospital," Olivia turned to leave, "Come on, Aaron."

"Really? You sure you want to do that? All the tedious paperwork; I can have you out of here in half an hour – you'll no doubt be at the hospital all night, and, frankly, I don't think you have that long. Half an hour, you'll be god as new."

"And how is _that_ possible?"

"Want to find out?"

Olivia growled inwardly.

"Erik. Keep an eye on this lot. And the kid."

Olivia glanced hesitantly at Aaron.

"He'll be alright. I swear. Erik knows better than to disobey my orders twice," the man in the suit started toward a side door, "Come on. This way."

Olivia frowned. She did not trust this man. She shook her head, and went toward the door to exit the warehouse, holding her wounded side. She took the handle of the door in her hand and pushed. The handle felt wet. Confused, she looked at it, to see what was a shiny silver was now a deep red; she looked at her hand. It was covered in blood. For the first time, Olivia noticed the wet warmth of her shirt where she had been cut. It was spreading, and quickly; her brain was growing fuzzy and the walls began to fade out of focus. She wouldn't be able to make it to a hospital.

Olivia turned and headed back toward the door the man in the suit had disappeared into. Just a mere six steps back into the open area of the warehouse, Olivia felt her legs become jelly, and she collapsed.

"I told you that you wouldn't be able to make it to the hospital," the man in the dark suit was crouching next to Olivia.

"I guess you were right," Olivia said weakly.

"Shall I still heal this gash in your side?"

Olivia nodded. She tried to sit up but was too weak; she had apparently lost more blood than she had originally thought.

"Easy, now," the man said when Olivia tried once again to raise herself up off the floor. She feebly fell back onto the hard floor.

"Don't give up easy, do you?" He shook his head, signing. Then, he slid one hand under her upper back, and the other under her knees, and lifted Olivia up off the floor.

The woman with her hair in a braid stood, "Um, Miss, do you know who this man is - or, well, _what _he is? He's a demon; he brought us here to try to bully us into translating some scribbles on a rock."

"You," the man holding Olivia said to the woman, "Shut it."

He carried Olivia to the back room that he had previously disappeared into. Looking around, she saw that the small room was dimly lit, just a single chair in the center of the room. After placing her in the wooden chair, he turned his back to her. Olivia idly noticed that there were straps on the armrests of the chair - this should have alarmed her, but she felt too ill and weak for it to register much.

"This shouldn't take long," the man said, turning around to her. He snapped his fingers and a second chair appeared in front of the one Olivia was seated in. He spun the chair around, straddled the back of it, and sat facing her. He placed his hand over the wound in her waist, murmured several words under his breath, and Olivia felt the slash in her side close.

"Shirt's probably ruined," he said simply.

Olivia ignored the comment, "Was that woman…uh, is-is… are you a - a demon?"

"Afraid so…" He trailed off and there was a moment of uncomfortable silence, "But, that word, _demon, _it has such a negative connotation, doesn't it?"

"Well," Olivia replied, "being a demon isn't exactly a good thing."

"Valid point, but not all demons are _bad_," he stood.

"So, are you trying to tell me you're one of those that aren't bad?"

"I just healed your side, didn't I? I could've let you bleed out," he stated, "but I didn't; that's got to count for something."

"Okay, fair enough," Olivia gave a faint smile, "So who should I send the 'thank you' card to? You literally saved me from bleeding to death."

"Name's Crowley," he replied, "King of Hell."

Olivia made a thoughtful face, "The king…of…of – of _Hell_?"

"That's right."

"So, what, you just take poor folks hostage every day?" Olivia crossed her arms.

Crowley frowned, "No. No, that was just PR."

"Right," Olivia stood, getting a bout of severe lightheadedness as she did, "Well, on that note, I'll be leaving." She headed toward the door.

"What? No thanks for patching you up?" Crowley took a few steps in her direction.

Olivia turned, too quickly for recently having lost so much blood. She faltered, wobbling, "Right. Thanks."

""Perhaps you should sit for a while longer. You bled a terrible amount," Crowley suggested.

Olivia conceded, and returned to the chair, collapsing into it.

"There you go," Crowley said, "Orange juice?"

Olivia looked at him, "What?"

"If I recall correctly, orange juice should aid in your recovery," he sat in the other chair, once again straddling its wooden back, "Care to try?"

Shrugging, Olivia nodded, "Sure."

Crowley snapped his fingers and a glass of orange juice materialized in his hand.

Olivia gave him a baffled look of awe.

Holding it out to her, Crowley cleared his throat, "Problem?"

"What? No," Olivia blinked and outstretched her hand to take the glass from him, looking intently at his face, curious as to why he was staring at the floor next to her chair. "Thank you," she said, wrapping her hand around the large glass; unintentionally, her fingers brushed against his lightly. Crowley's eyes snapped to hers at this, almost as though he was offended at the touch, then as if she was a painting he was trying to find meaning in. He did not release his hold on the glass immediately.

Crowley cleared his throat, looking away, letting Olivia take the glass.

Olivia took several gulps of the acidic drink, her eyes watering as it burned on its way down her throat.

Keeping her eyes on Crowley, Olivia drank half of the juice before he noticed her looking at him.

"Yes?" he asked.

Lowering the drink, Olivia frowned, "What?"

"You were staring. Quite rude."

"I didn't mean to. Sorry. I was just thinking…" she trailed off, turning turned her gaze downward.

"Go on."

Olivia sighed, "Maybe you're right."

"Of course I am; that's generally the case," Crowley said. "But what specifically are you talking about?"

"Demons aren't all bad," Olivia shrugged, "I mean, you're obviously not."

"Come again?" Crowley narrowed his eyes.

Olivia huffed, "Like I said, you could have let me bleed to death; you didn't." She paused before adding, "Not just that, but, I mean, this," she held up her orange juice, "it's not only keeping me alive, but making me feel better. It's…you're – well, it's _nice_," she looked at him.

"I'm a regular hero," Crowley rolled his eyes, mocking her observation, "Orange juice and all."

Olivia stood and pushed the glass into his hand, marching toward the door, "You don't have to be that way. I was trying to give you a compliment. To tell you I really do appreciate it a lot. To say 'thank you'. For crying out loud!"

Crowley stood, and was right behind her in a flash. He grabbed her hand, keeping her from leaving the room, "Olivia."

Turning to look at him, offended and slightly miffed, Olivia pursed her lips.

"You're welcome," Crowley said.

Olivia sighed heavily then gave a faint smile.

"People don't generally thank me," he commented.

"Well, that's just bad manners."

"Then again," Crowley added, "I don't generally do things that deserve a 'thank you'. Hm." He moved his jaw to the side.

"But, you did," Olivia was suddenly very aware that he had not let go of her hand, "for me."

Crowley pressed his lips together and dropped Olivia's hand. Olivia thought she felt him give it a light squeeze before he let it go. She gave him a questioning look, which he replied to with a faint flicker of a smile.

"Right," Olivia said, "I should, uh, go." She awkwardly shook his hand and started to the door before turning back to him. She placed her hand on the front of his shoulder and leaned up to press her lips to his cheek. Crowley was obviously startled, remaining glued to the spot, cutting his eyes over to her.

"Thank you," she said softly, only inches away from his ear.

Apparently unfreezing, Crowley turned his head to face Olivia and he just looked at her for a moment. His eyes fell to her lips then returned to her eyes. Olivia felt her face grow hot with color.

Crowley's eyes flicked once more to her mouth and he leaned toward her.

A loud crash came from the main room of the warehouse. Crowley growled and rushed to the door.

He stuck his head out, "Bollocks."

Olivia frowned, "What? What's wrong?"

"Winchesters. Stay in this room," he said before leaving, closing the door behind himself.


	2. Explanation

Not knowing what was happening, and not wanting to risk getting injured again or killed, Olivia decided to sit in the far corner of the room, as far away from the door as possible.

For over half an hour, Olivia sat on the floor, listening to shouts and crashes and bangs, worrying about Aaron. She wondered why she was also concerned about Crowley. Finally, the door to the room slowly opened. Standing, Olivia brushed the dust of the floor from her jeans.

"Well, this should be entertaining," Crowley said, stepping into the doorway, "Come." He gave a jerk of his head toward the large room outside the small one she was in. Olivia looked skeptically at him, and hesitantly walked out the door.

The large octagonal table's glass top was cracked, the chairs of the six people were strewn about, and a man's body was lying slumped in a corner, while Erik's was crumpled grotesquely on the floor. Three men were looking oddly at Olivia; one was quite tall with shaggy dark hair, another had brown hair and looked battle-worn, the third also had dark hair, the bluest eyes Olivia has ever seen, and wore a trench coat.

The battle-worn man, Dean, addressed Crowley, "Alright, dickbag, why do you have some girl here? She's not a prophet."

Olivia crossed her arms but remained silent.

"Not _all_ my friends are demons," Crowley replied moodily.

"She's your…friend?" the tall man, Sam, asked.

"I wasn't aware you had any friends, Crowley," the third one, Castiel – an angel, chimed in.

"Oh, come on," Crowley's voice was overflowing with irony, "I've got you all. Heh. The Three Musketeers."

"Uh," Olivia coughed, "Where's Aaron?"

"I'm – I'm right here," Aaron came out from behind a door to a side room to stand next to Olivia.

Sam, startled at Aaron's appearance, looked at Dean, "Has he been there the whole time?"

Shrugging, Dean turned to Aaron, "Hey, buddy, whatcha doin' here?"

Aaron gave Dean a reproachful look and silently pointed at Crowley.

"Okay, how about we get you home?" Dean looked to Cas, "Wanna take the kid home?"

Olivia stepped forward, "Uh, no; that's not happening. I'm supposed to be watching him until four, and, frankly, I have no clue who you guys are."

Sam chuckled slightly, "It's 10 'til four."

"Fine," Olivia said, "Then I'll take him home."

"No, I don't think so," Dean said, "We're gonna want a little chat with you. Cas'll take him."

"Dean," Sam said, "You can't expect her to just be okay with just letting Cas zap him off somewhere; she has no clue who he is; let her go with him." Sam looked back Olivia, "But after you drop him off, you need to come back here, alright? Cas will bring you back."

"And why do I need to come back?"

"We gotta find out out exactly why you were hiding out in some demon's secret lair," Dean said hotly.

"Ugh," Olivia conceded, "Fine. Where's your car?"

Cas gave an uneasy look to Dean.

"Go on, Cas," Dean spoke with a knowing smile, "Take Aaron home."

Castiel stepped to Olivia and Aaron and placed a hand on each of their shoulders. Olivia was suddenly engulfed in darkness, surrounded by an oddly energizing cool breeze. In a moment, the three were standing on the sidewalk in front of Aaron's house.

"Whoa," Aaron said just before Castiel put his pointer and middle fingers to Aaron's forehead. After he removed them, Aaron looked oddly at Cas, "Who're you?"

Olivia looked at the angel inquisitively, "His memory?"

"Just the last few hours," Castiel replied, "You've been at the park."

"Oh," Olivia said, and swiftly stepped on her shoelace, untying it, "Aaron, he was just pointing out that my shoe was untied."

Aaron shrugged, "Okay. Can we go in?"

Olivia nodded, bent down to retie her shoe, then quietly said to Castiel, "I guess I'll be back in a few minutes."

Castiel nodded, "That should be fine."

Olivia and Aaron went into the house and watched a few minutes of cartoons before his mom arrived.

She paid Olivia, who then hurriedly left, returning to Castiel on the sidewalk.

Castiel put his hand on her shoulder, and a moment later, they were back in the warehouse.

"Here they are," Crowley was leaning casually back against a wall while Sam and Dean stood in the middle of the room, looking agitated.

"Alright," Dean gave an irritated sigh, "What's the deal?"

Olivia tilted her head slightly, "What do you mean?"

Sam walked over to the two, "How is it that you're here?"

Crowley joined, standing at Olivia's side, giving an exasperated groan, "I've told you both already."

"Yeah, well," Dean glowered at him, "Is it okay if we confirm that?" He didn't wait for a response before looking back to Olivia, "So?"

Olivia glanced at Crowley, "I'm Aaron's babysitter. He wasn't at the preschool when I went to pick him up. I asked around, and some people pointed me here."

"Okay," Sam said, "But you were here for…two hours? What's that about?"

"I, uh," Olivia quickly flicked her eyes to Crowley, not sure what she should tell the brothers. He raised his eyebrows.

She huffed, "Well, I got hurt. Uh, Crowley healed it."

"For free?" Dean asked.

"Yes, actually," Crowley answered.

"For free?" Dean asked again, pretending not to hear Crowley.

Olivia nodded, "Yep."

"No deals?"

Olivia shook her head.

"So," Sam asked, "He didn't want anything in return?"

Once again, she shook her head, "No."

"Did he kiss you?" Dean asked.

"What?" Olivia blinked, "Why would you think that?" She remembered the moment earlier when Crowley had leaned toward her, "Why would you ask that?"

Sam cut his eyes over to Crowley with distaste, "That's how deals are sealed."

Olivia put her hand on her hip, "Well, no, he didn't kiss me."

"Are you sure?" Cas asked.

Olivia heard a chuckle from Crowley.

"Yes, Castiel," Olivia pursed her lips, "I'm positive," she paused before smirking slightly, "Has he kissed _you?_"

"No," Cas replied, "I would remember that."

Olivia gave him a _so there_ look.

"Alright, alright," Dean said defensively, "Let's not mock the angel."

Sam cleared his throat, "Okay, we can get you home now."

"I live in the apartments just down the road; I can walk," Olivia replied.

"You sure?" Sam asked.

She nodded, "Yeah, it's literally three blocks away; I think I can handle it."

"Alright."

Castiel placed a hand on each of the brother's shoulders then the trio vanished.

"I suppose I made the proper decision, then," Crowley said to himself.

Olivia turned to him, "What are you talking about?"

Crowley frowned, "Nothing."

Olivia looked at Crowley, "Uh, I guess I'm gonna go. See you later." She paused. "Wait, no, I guess I probably won't."

"Shame," Crowley said.

"Huh?"

He just shook his head slightly.

"Okay, then…uh, bye?" she held her hand out, offering a handshake. After looking at her outstretched hand for a moment, Crowley finally took it, almost as though he were afraid he would break her, and gave her a quick handshake.

"See you around," he said as he watched her leave.


	3. Visitor From Hell

Olivia soaked in a steamy bath for half an hour once she was home, her mind whirling with everything she had seen earlier. She dressed slowly in her winter pajamas, then flopped onto her bed.

Olivia lied on her bed for ten minutes before she started to get cold from her still wet hair.

"You probably should use a blow dryer," she heard a voice from the other side of the room. She let out a squeal of surprise and fear as she sat bolt upright. As shocked as she was to have anyone in her apartment, she was even more baffled when she saw that it was Crowley.

"What – what are you – "

"Doing here?"

"Yeah," Olivia said, on her feet.

"I was thinking about our little chat earlier," Crowley said.

"Which one?" Olivia crossed her arms, then had a thought of her own, "Wait, how did you know which apartment was mine?"

"I'm the King of Hell, love."

Olivia frowned, "Right."

Crowley remained standing, looking out-of-place, leaning back against her wall.

"Uh, do you…uh, can I get you something to drink?" Olivia asked as she headed out to the kitchen.

"I'll have whatever you're having, if you don't mind."

Olivia quickly made two whiskey sours, set one on her small dining table, and sat down, the second drink in hand.

Looking slightly waylaid, Crowley sat in the opposite chair and took a sip of the drink. They drank in silence, occasionally catching each other's eyes and immediately looking away.

Olivia finished her drink, saw that his was gone as well, and took the glasses to the sink. She wanted to busy herself, so she went ahead and washed them, then started washing the rest of the dishes in her sink.

She could feel Crowley's eyes on her, though. She sighed, "So, what 'chat' were you thinking about that led you to break into my apartment?" she asked over her shoulder.

Crowley stood, "First, all healed up from that nasty wound?"

Olivia nodded, "Yes. Thank you again. I really don't know what I'd have done."

"No thanks is necessary."

There was an odd silence for a moment before Olivia cleared her throat, drying her hands on a towel and turning around, "I just wish I could repay you in some way." She looked awkward, as if struggling with an internal battle. She shuffled her feet. Olivia bit her lip, took a deep breath, then strode over to Crowley and wrapped her arms around his neck, giving him a hug of appreciation.

Crowley uncomfortably patted her back twice, uneasy with being embraced.

Olivia released him, embarrassed, then returned to the sink, moving dishes around unnecessarily, just to make noise. She did this for a couple of minutes before asking, "So, you're not going to tell me what brought you here?

"I was thinking about our talk earlier," Crowley replied.

"Okay…"

"About my decision-making."

"Uh huh. What about it?"

"That I made the right call," he said a little quieter than normal.

Olivia frowned at her dishes, remaining silent.

"Of course, I had no idea the squirrel would ask that, but…I think I made the proper decision."

"Wait. Who asked what?"

"Dean. He asked if I had kissed you; if you had made a deal with me."

"Okay; I don't follow."

"I don't know how you feel about lying – "

"I try to avoid it."

"Course you do," Crowley nodded, "So you wouldn't have lied to him?"

Olivia furrowed her brow, "Not ideally, no."

"Then I made the right decision."

"What decision was that?"

His voice was right behind her; she could feel his presence, "Not to have kissed you."

Olivia froze.

"Yet."

She turned around slowly, "What?"

He was only a foot away from her; she noticed for the first time that his eyes were a deep green.

She only had a moment to appreciate them before they were closing, his hand on the back of her neck, on top of her wet hair. He lowered his mouth to hers, brushing his lips on hers.

Olivia's mind went blank. She couldn't think of anything; she was frozen, caught so off-guard that she had no idea what to do. Unable to form any coherent thought, Olivia had no filter through which she was experiencing the kiss; there were no distractions, no shadow of whispers in her mind telling her it was wrong – she felt the softness of his lips, the scratchiness of his facial stubble, and the tiny movements of his lips.

Crowley moved away and his eyes searched her face, which grew hot with the blush of embarrassment.

Olivia looked down, clearing her throat.

Crowley looked almost as if he were bordering on embarrassment; he sighed, "Forgive me."

Her eyes snapping to him, Olivia bit her lip, "For what?"

"I've made you uncomfortable," Crowley said with a hint of an apology, "Perhaps I shouldn't have - "

"I just wasn't expecting that," Olivia interrupted, "You caught me off guard, that's all. I was unprepared. _I'm_ sorry."

Crowley looked pensive for a moment, "_You're_ apologizing?"

"Yeah, that was terrible," Olivia attempted to reassure him, "On my part, I mean."

Raising his eyebrows only slightly, Crowley faintly smirked, "Would you like a chance to redeem yourself?"

He did not wait for a response before he brought his lips to meet hers once more. Olivia let her eyes close as their lips molded together. Not startled this time, she noticed the heat of his breath and the hint of a smoky scent. He brushed his lips over hers, tentatively for a moment before moving his mouth with more certainty. Olivia felt the fluttering nervousness of a first kiss in her stomach. She lightly bit his lower lip, grazing her teeth over his flesh. She felt him smile briefly before placing his hands on her waist slightly roughly. Crowley's tongue gradually became involved, barely connecting with Olivia's lips, brushing against hers, then finally sliding into her mouth. Olivia brought her arms up to rest her wrists on Crowley's shoulders as he pushed her against the counter, his hands grasping at the material of her shirt then running up her back. Olivia was surprised and slightly confused by the heat of the kiss; his enthusiasm and passion consumed her.

Crowley slowly decreased the intensity of the kiss, gradually tapering off into soft, lingering pecks.

They finally parted after several minutes, "Well," Crowley said, "You certainly outshone that first performance."

Olivia felt her face flush with color. She chewed her bottom lip for a moment.

Crowley tilted his head to the side, "That was a compliment, sweetheart."

Smiling, Olivia forced back a yawn, "Thanks, then, I guess."

He narrowed his eyes slightly, "You're tired."

Failing to stifle another yawn, Olivia frowned, "A little."

"To bed," Crowley suggested.

"But you –"

"Ah, ah," he shook his head, "I'll be back. Sleep."

Olivia nodded, then sat on her sofa. She frowned up at Crowley, "When?"

He took her hands, "Soon."

Then he was gone.


	4. Nobody's Perfect

Olivia went to her bed; she fell asleep almost immediately. She woke the next morning at 10, glad it was Sunday; that meant she had nothing to do. Rolling over, she considered turning her heat up to keep herself warm in the icy air, but decided to just huddle under her quilt. She drifted off again, quickly and easily.

Crowley appeared beside her bed that afternoon. He looked at Olivia, asleep and oblivious to his presence. The blanket had fallen off her arm; Crowley pulled it back up over her, covering her shoulder. Olivia stirred, and Crowley vanished, unsure of why he had been there in the first place.

He did not return that day.

Olivia kicked her apartment door closed behind herself after getting home from work on Monday. She flopped onto her sofa with her sketchpad and began working on her latest drawing.

"That's rather good," Olivia heard Crowley's voice behind her. She closed the sketchbook, smiling, then stood and turned to look at him.

"I have a door, you know; you could use it," Olivia feigned a scolding tone.

"But where's the fun in that?"

She laughed, "Hi to you, too."

Crowley walked around the couch to her, "Hello." He pulled her into a swift hug.

Over the next several weeks, Crowley would appear in Olivia's apartment about every other day.

Sitting beside her on the couch one Saturday evening, he looked at her thoughtfully, "How would you feel about a change of scenery?"

Olivia shrugged, "Sure."

"Dinner?" Crowley tapped her back, "Go get changed."

She gave him an odd look, then stood and went to her bedroom. Already in her work clothes - dress pants and a long sleeved blouse - she figured he must have found this outfit unacceptable, so she changed into a simple blue dress she rarely had a reason to wear, slipped on her silver heels she had only worn once, and pulled her hair into a relatively nice French twist, then returned to the sitting room.

"Beautiful," Crowley said as she entered the room.

Olivia blushed. He placed his hand on the small of her back and led her out the door. They left the apartment building and stood on the sidewalk. Crowley looked around briefly, then lightly rested his hand on Olivia's forearm.

Once again, Olivia was surrounded by darkness, a cool air around her, and then she was on a concrete street in an alley. She looked at Crowley quizzically.

"Well, we can't just appear out of nowhere on a crowded street, can we?"

"Guess not."

Crowley led her around the side of the building and to a relatively busy square. They walked two blocks before Crowley headed toward a restaurant. He opened the door and they entered. Olivia realized why he had told her to change; this was a swanky place.

They had dinner, wine, and dessert, plus excellent conversation; Olivia had rarely been able to open up to anyone, but it was as though she had known Crowley for years.

They left the restaurant, and Crowley glanced at her, looking uncertain, "Up for another scenery change?"

Olivia looked at him oddly.

"Well, I don't live in that dingy warehouse."

"Oh," Olivia nodded, "Yeah, okay; should be interesting to see what the King of Hell's house is like."

In a moment, the pair was in a warmly lit sitting room.

Olivia was astounded by the beauty of the room; two of the walls were covered, floor to ceiling, with books The furniture, a rich wood, consisted of an elaborate desk, a coffee table, and two end tables. Lit wall sconces cast a comforting light down the walls, here and there pooling on the cherry wood floor.

"Wow," Olivia breathed.

Crowley gestured toward the fireplace; blazing flames appeared, bathing the room in a warm glow.

Walking around the sofa, into the middle of the room, Crowley beckoned for Olivia to follow him. He sat on the loveseat, keeping his eyes on Olivia.

"Sit," he patted the empty space beside himself.

Olivia sat beside Crowley, noticing the cloud of uncertainty and slight sadness that fell across his face.

"Yes?" She sat next to him.

Crowley did not look at her, but kept his green eyes locked on the flickering flames of the fireplace, although Olivia thought he wasn't really seeing them; his eyes were glassy and unfocused.

"This isn't right," he said to the fireplace.

Olivia decided to let him take his time. After several minutes of Crowley not continuing, she placed her hand on top of his, folded together on his knee. He blinked for the first time since he had taken to staring at the orange haze of the flames.

Crowley cleared his throat, "You know…you know what I am," he paused, "but my history, the things…the things I've done, well…"

Olivia swallowed, "Yes?"

"I don't think…" Crowley shifted uncomfortably, "Well, you, you're a good person, amazing person, really. And me?" he scoffed, "I just think you…well, you deserve better."

Laughing quietly, Olivia placed her hand on the side of his face and turned it to her so she could look in his eyes, "We've all done things we regret."

"I don't think you understand –"

"-I don't care," Olivia said.

"I just – "

"Hey. Listen to me; I've done a lot of things I wish I hadn't, but I can't change the fact that I did them."

"This isn't quite like cheating on a math quiz, Olivia."

She pressed her lips to his suddenly, conveying through the kiss that she was not concerned with his past misdeeds. She moved barely away from him, and softly said, "Nobody's perfect."

Although surprised, a smile found its way to Crowley's face.


	5. A Night With The King

The trend of Olivia and Crowley spending several evenings together per week continued for three months.

"The Winchesters are up to something," Crowley mused one evening, sitting on his sofa next to Olivia.

"That's Sam and Dean, right? What do you mean they're up to something?"

"I can't be sure what exactly they're doing, but it's definitely Hell-related," he responded, a thoughtful look on his face.

"What? How to you know?" Olivia looked at him.

"They killed one of my hounds, for starters," Crowley glowered at the wall, "Then they practically strutted into Hell – my Hell – and took Bobby Singer."

Olivia frowned, "And you have no idea why?"

"Haven't the foggiest. But I'll be keeping all things Hell as far away from them as possible from now on,"

"Probably a good idea," she said quietly. "So what's the deal with you three? It's like you guys hate each other."

Crowley told Olivia the history between himself and the boys, explaining nearly every confrontation they had ever had. Olivia listened, growing less and less fond of the pair. When it seemed Crowley had ran out of stories, Olivia had no idea how to respond except to nod and give him an understanding look.

Olivia set her glass on the end table and moved closer to him.

Crowley raised his eyebrows, "I'm done," he pulled Olivia into a long, enthusiastic kiss, his hands running over her back. Olivia felt him bite her lip then move his tongue into her mouth as he leaned toward her.

Crowley moved his mouth to her neck, pushing her auburn hair behind her ear. Olivia shivered when she felt his tongue on her neck, causing him to give her a swift smile before continuing. He pushed the collar of her shirt over and moved his lips to her shoulder. Olivia ran her hand up through his hair on the back of his head before he returned to kissing her neck. Crowley drug his mouth to her ear and lightly bit it while his hands played at the hem of her shirt.

He stood, then pulled Olivia up from the sofa as well. Crowley took her face in his hands and brought his lips to hers again, slowly kissing her. Crowley parted from Olivia and looked into her eyes for several long moments. He brought his mouth to her neck, then slid his hands up under her shirt, pulling it up over her head. Olivia bit her lip as his mouth found the front of her shoulder, his hands firmly holding onto her waist. She pulled his tie off, then pushed his jacket back off his shoulders before unbuttoning his shirt. Crowley, still passionately kissing her neck, turned Olivia' back toward the hall. He headed down the hallway, Olivia walking backwards, and entered the room at the end of the corridor. Olivia kept her steps as even as she could, walking back into the dimly lit room Crowley was guiding her toward.

She felt something against the back of her legs. Crowley ran his fingers up Olivia's back, and unhooked her bra. Her heart rate accelerating, Olivia touched Crowley's bare chest, dragging her unsteady hands down to unclasp his belt as she felt his fingertips glide up her arms, and under the straps of her bra, sliding them down off her shoulders. He kicked himself out of his pants, leaving them in a pile on the floor. Crowley's hand was on the back of Olivia's head, cradling it, and he lowered her down onto his bed. His mouth found her collarbone as his hand slid up her stomach then cupped her breast. Olivia kept her hand on his back, curling her fingers as his lips moved down to place soft kisses on her chest. Crowley's fingertips grazed the skin of her stomach while he gently brushed his mouth over her. His lips moved to her stomach, trailing lower. Crowley unzipped her skirt then tapped her hip; Olivia knew he was instructing her to lift herself up. She raised her hips; their eyes locked while Crowley slid the skirt off of her. Crowley, seated back on his knees, traced his hand along her thigh. Olivia, her breath unsteady, rested her hand on his knee as his hand went farther and farther up. His hand finally moved to between her legs, running across the fabric of her panties. Crowley ran his hand over her thigh again, then traced the hem of her panties with his fingers. Olivia knew what he was doing, and she saw on his face that he was enjoying teasing her. Crowley slipped his fingers under her panties and touched her cautiously, watching her face. He traced his fingertips over her as she closed her eyes. Crowley slid her underwear down and dropped them on the floor. He slipped a finger inside her, his body aching at the feel of her. Olivia bit her lip as he added a second digit, stifling a groan. Crowley smirked then lowered his mouth onto her, kissing and licking her body. Olivia ran her hand through his hair as she squirmed. She made quiet noises in her throat as she felt his soft tongue on her.

Crowley moved up to kiss her neck again, slipping his fingers into her once more. He felt her hands on his back; they were trembling. He looked down at her, and saw in her eyes that it was from nervousness as well as enjoyment.

Crowley kissed her lips softly, "Alright, love?"

Olivia nodded, blushing slightly.

He removed his boxers slowly. Olivia looked at him, erect and solid. She touched him, her hands still shaky. Crowley returned on top of her, kissing her lips slowly and deeply.

Crowley gave her a swift look of questioning, to which she faintly smiled. He slowly slid himself inside her, their eyes locked once again. Olivia drew in a quick breath. He gently and tenderly moved in and out of her, their breathing growing more and more rapid.

Crowley's mouth was on hers, open, their warm breath on each other. Olivia writhed under his body, his passion consuming her.

She felt a warmth growing in her abdomen, and Crowley was growing more and more enthusiastic.

Olivia's body was overcome with heat and pleasure as she trembled involuntarily.

Crowley groaned, and Olivia felt his warm lust inside her.

Crowley, breathing heavily, pushed Olivia's hair from her face and kissed her ravenously before rolling off of her, pulling her to rest her head on his chest.

Olivia traced her fingers over his chest, which was rising and falling rapidly as he breathed heavily. She placed her chin on the start of his ribcage and looked up at him, "Hi."

He lifted his head slightly, "Hi?" Crowley feigned an offended look, "That's what you have to say? 'Hi'. You're joking, right?"

Olivia pouted, "Is 'hi' too informal for you? Sorry. Hello. Happy now?"

"It's a bit better."

Olivia returned to laying her head on his chest. She closed her eyes, the rhythm of his heartbeat and his breathing lulling her into a sense of comfort and safety.

Crowley lightly tapped the back of her head, "Still alright, sweetheart?"

She nodded into his chest, "Mmhm."

"You sure?"

"Yeah. Great," she put a finger to his lips, "Now shush, you."

Smiling to himself, Crowley obeyed and remained quiet. She didn't know he never slept; he stayed on his back, running his fingers through her hair, which was slightly mussed from their recent activities. Trying to move as little as possible, he pulled the sheet up over her, to her shoulder blades. Crowley traced his fingers across the bare skin of her back, staring at the ceiling.

He was surprised at himself; he had not focused his affections on anyone in centuries…until Olivia. Frowning slightly, perplexed, he wondered what he was thinking, letting his guard down, removing it completely. He thought back and realized he had not once lied to her. He couldn't seem to figure out why. Crowley looked at Olivia, her eyes closed in slumber, her face flushed but peaceful, her lips parted slightly as she slept; he stopped wondering.


	6. Caught

"Alright, Crowley, where are you?" Sam's voice called from the sitting room late the following afternoon.

Crowley growled inwardly. He could easily vanish to avoid the encounter, but then Olivia would be left to explain. It was too late, anyway; Crowley could hear Sam's heavy footsteps approaching the door.

"Crowley? God, I hope you're dressed. We need to talk," Sam said, slowly opening the door. He saw Crowley and Olivia; irritation and confusion filled his face.

Crowley put his finger to his lips, telling Sam to be quiet, then mouthed, "Just a second," and gestured for Sam to leave.

Sam nodded but Castiel walked up behind him, "Sam, he may not be –" he saw Olivia and Crowley in bed, "– what is going on? Is that Olivia?" Crowley gave Cas an icy glare; the last thing he needed was for Dean to know about this.

At the rather loud sound of her name, Olivia woke, stirring; the sheet started to fall off her body, but Crowley caught it before she was exposed.

Olivia didn't notice Sam and Castiel outside the door; she smiled up at Crowley, "Hi again," she ran her hand up his arm.

Crowley couldn't help but smile back at her; he kissed Olivia's lips softly but quickly, then cleared his throat and looked at Sam and Cas. Olivia looked at them, reflexively pulling the sheet higher up over herself.

Sam was shifting uncomfortably, looking at the floor. Cas, however, was looking at the pair as though they were a confusing riddle.

"Do you mind, Castiel?" Crowley asked, "I'd like to be dressed for this scolding, and whatever issue the two of you came for."

"Come on, Cas," Sam steered Castiel away, closing Crowley's bedroom door.

It turned out that Sam was too distracted by the sight of Crowley and Olivia together that he forgot why they had come in the first place. Dean, however, remembered perfectly. Apparently, a Knight of Hell, Abaddon, had slipped from the Winchester's grasp and Crowley may have known where she had disappeared.

"Abbadon?" Crowley scoffed, "I loathe that whore. Why would I help her?"

"Yeah, well. I'm sure you'll think of a way to get ahold of her. Soon," Sam said.

"Why would I want to aid two men and an angel that broke into my home?"

"Trust me, jackass," Dean spat, "You want us to find her before she finds you."

"Oh? Am I supposed to be scared of the Winchesters and their poor excuse for a soldier of Heaven?" Crowley snidely asked, crossing his arms, "Face it, boys, all your angel's good for is to be a tree-topper at Christmas."

"Believe me when I say I could destroy you, Crowley," Cas stepped toward Crowley threateningly, "And would, without question, if they asked me to."

"Ah, but they haven't, have they? After all this time, all the opportunities the Winchesters have had to kill me, why would they choose now to finally make good on their relentless threats? Is Abaddon really worth losing me as an ally?"

Dean scoffed, "Ally? The only thing you've been good for is giving us your blood for the stake that killed Dick."

"Come on, Squirrel," Crowley feigned offense, "I gave you The Colt; remember that?"

"Yeah, and it didn't work on Lucifer," Dean growled, "Sammy here had to go to Hell – literally – which could have been avoided."

"Wow, you boys sure can hold a grudge," Crowley commented, "And I've told you; I thought The Colt would work. I can't believe you're still holding that against me, after all I've done for you."

Sam and Dean took a while to be convinced that Crowley didn't know where Abaddon was, although Castiel accepted Crowley's response immediately. Eventually, the trio left, the brothers visibly annoyed.

"They've left," Crowley called to Olivia, who had stayed in his room.

Olivia slowly emerged to join Crowley in the sitting room.

Crowley cleared his throat, not knowing what to say.

"Crowley? Why are you being weird? What's wrong?" Olivia took a seat on the sofa, worried she had unknowingly done something wrong.

"What? Not being weird," Crowley sat next to her, "Thinking."

Olivia shifted her eyes to him, then to the floor, "Is it – did I do something? I mean, uh, last night, well…"

He looked at her, "Not at all," he paused, "Well, nothing bad," he shot her a sly smirk.

"I just meant it was…"

"Fantastic."

Olivia looked at him, "Well, uh, I was going to say unexpected, but, yeah, fantastic works, too." She smiled.


	7. Beast No More

Olivia did not see Crowley for two and a half weeks, which was extremely unusual. She had called him, but it always went straight to voicemail. Beginning to get anxious, she went to his house to check on him; could demons even _get_ sick? Either way, she brought homemade soup with her. However, Crowley wasn't there. She had thought that maybe he was avoiding her since their night together, but it didn't look as though he had been home in a while.

Two days later, just after getting home from work, she had a sudden thought; the last day she had seen Crowley, the Winchesters and their angel friend had shown up at his house unexpectedly. Maybe they knew something. She couldn't remember the angel's name; for some reason it seemed important.

"Castiel! That was it! Castiel!"

"Yes?" the angel appeared in her living room.

Startled, Olivia jumped, "Holy crap! What are you doing here?"

"You called," he said simply, "You spoke my name. Why?"

"Oh. No, I was just trying to remember your name, and I couldn't. But then I did."

"Why were you needing to know my name?"

Olivia frowned, "I didn't _need_ to remember it; I was just trying to."

"Why?"

Olivia sighed, "Geez. I actually was just thinking that you and those two guys – the brothers – were the last ones to see Crowley…"

"Yes, it has been a while since you saw him, hasn't it?"

"Yeah…nearing a month," Olivia looked at him, "Wait, have _you_ seen him? Do you know where he is?"

"I do."

Relieved that he wasn't dead, Olivia sat on her couch, "Where is he? Is he okay?"

"He is with Sam and Dean."

"But – but, no. They hate each other! Why would he be with them for this long? He wouldn't have done that!" although the information that Crowley was alive had first comforted her, Olivia was now beginning to panic; surely Crowley was not staying with the brothers on his own volition, "Is he okay, Castiel?"

Cas shifted silently.

Olivia swallowed, "I want to see him. Now."

"I'm afraid I can't –"

"Now," Olivia demanded.

Cas sighed, "Fine."

Olivia stood, "Okay. Let's go."

Castiel put his hand on her shoulder, and they were standing in a large room with bookshelves on one wall, a small desk on another, and a long dining-like table in the center.

Sam stood up from the table, "Cas, what the hell? She can't be here."

"I'm sorry, Sam; she insisted."

"What have you done with him?" Olivia asked hotly.

"Who? Crowley? He's fine."

"Yeah? Where is he?"

Sam huffed, "Ugh. Fine. Big door at the edge of that room in there," he gestured to the large open room just outside of the one they were in, "down the steps and then through the door. Don't break the lines on the floor. You can talk to him, that's it."

Olivia nodded once, then headed to the large door, wondering what lines on the floor Sam was talking about. She went through the first door and into a small hall-foyer that was dimly lit. The second door, actually a set of double doors, was huge and intimidating.

She pushed on it, but it wouldn't budge. Then she realized there was a large bolt she had to undo before it would open; this was ominous and gave her another bout of panic. With a shaky hand, she turned the metal deadbolt and pushed the door open.

Olivia froze; the room was pitch-black; the only light came from the little that streamed in from the outer rooms, but this was enough to barely make out a single thin chain hanging from the ceiling a foot in front of her. She reached up and pulled it.

"No," Olivia whispered in shock and disbelief when she saw that Crowley was in a chair, a thick chain around his chest, his hands resting in his lap, handcuffed. His face was slightly bruised and bloody.

"Olivia?" Crowley said, much quieter than usual.

His voice snapping her from her frozen state, Olivia rushed to him, taking his face in her hands, "What have they done?" She kissed his lips before he could answer.

"Are you okay? Of course you aren't! You're chained in a basement! Oh my god! Crowley!"

Crowley smiled, clearly through pain, "I'm fine. I'll be out of here in no time."

"What _happened?_"

"I don't know; these boys are trying to 'cure' me or something."

"_Cure you?_"

Crowley shrugged, "Something about turning me human, trials or whatever."

"I was so worried! I'll get you out of here, I promise."

"You can't. They won't let you," Crowley took her face in his hands, "They will shoot you dead first."

Olivia kissed him, "Then they'll shoot me."

Crowley searched her face with his eyes, which were beginning to glisten, "You would say that, you stupid, stupid woman."

Olivia looked into his deep green eyes, "You don't understand, do you? Crowley, I love you."

His hands fell from her face, "What? That's not possible."

"Yeah it is, Crowley, 'cause I do."

A smile slowly formed on Crowley's face, "Guess what? The feeling's mutual; I love you."

They smiled at each other for a moment before he grabbed Olivia's face and kissed her passionately.

Suddenly, Crowley flinched away, then bent over in pain, exclaiming in agony.

"Crowley? Crowley, what happened? What's wrong? Crowley?" Olivia didn't know what to do.

"What happened?" Sam burst into the room, "Why is he yelling? What happened?"

"I don't know!" Olivia answered, keeping her eyes on Crowley as he flinched in pain, "What's happening to him?"

Sam watched Crowley for a moment. Crowley suddenly calmed, then lifted his eyes to Olivia, "I'm so sorry. I told you you deserved better."

Sam stepped closer to Crowley and bent to look at his face, "Crowley? What just happened?"

"You've won, Moose," Crowley replied, "You won, Sam."

Sam nudged Olivia, "Can I?"

Olivia moved away from Crowley reluctantly.

Sam slowly unlocked the chain that was around Crowley's chest, and stepped back, "Alright. If you can leave, you can leave."

Olivia looked uncomprehendingly at Sam, "What?"

He pointed to the red circle and design under Crowley's chair, "Devil's trap. Demons can't get out."

Crowley slowly stood, apparently stiff from being seated for weeks, then took a tentative step away from his chair. He looked at Olivia, then at the red circle of the Devi's trap. Crowley lifted his foot cautiously, hesitantly moved it out of the red circle, then placed it on the floor.

He stepped out of the trap, looked at Olivia, then headed to Sam, "Undo these," he held out his cuffed hands.

Sam unlocked the handcuffs. Crowley went to Olivia, took her waist, and lifted her off the floor as he hungrily kissed her lips.

Sam cleared his throat after a few moments, "Ahem. Can I ask? How did…how exactly did you suddenly get cured?"

Crowley put Olivia down, "Not sure. She came. Ask her; she did it. Blame her."

Olivia shot him a look, "Me? I didn't do anything! I told you I'd get shot if necessary, then…"

"Shot?" Sam asked.

"Yeah. He didn't get why, so I…told him…and…oh." Olivia slowly realized how she had, in fact, cured Crowley.

"What?" Sam persisted.

"And…I think, well, I'm pretty sure he was cured because –"

"This is all very Beauty and The Beast; it's a bit ridiculous, honestly," Crowley said, "The Beast fell in love."


End file.
